Conception a story in fourty weeks
by TheCentauress
Summary: Oh, My! Our favorite aquatransexual is pregnant... who's the daddy? (X-OVER with at least TM!/SM/others...) Note that this is only semi-humorous, but the genre choices don't include that choice...


Conception - a story told  
in forty weeks   
  
By TheCentauress  
  
AUTHORESS' NOTE: Yes, this is a Ranma fic. However, this is a multi-crossover  
as well. As the story goes on, the various other series will have their cameo  
appearances. Needless to say, the end result will more than likely shock the...  
well, you get the general idea.  
  
DISCLAIMER: Yadda, yadda, don't own it, mumble, mumble, don't sue...  
Chapter 1 - days 0 through 28  
  
Ranma locked her jaw tight as she ran to the toilet. She would be dammed  
if she were to loose control over Kasumi's well cleaned floors. As she ran   
toward the porcelain monument, she allowed the part of her mind that was not  
either panicking or concentrating on reaching her goal to wander over the past  
month. Little would she have thought that, less than a month ago, she would  
have been in _this_ situation....  
  
-FLASHBACK-  
  
She ran, as if the hounds of Hell, rather than her rivals and fiancees,  
were dogging her erratic path. Between the lot of them, she had been  
alternately drugged and beaten; her body, in an effort to try and heal both the  
exotic chemicals inside and the cuts and bruises and swelling outside, was   
slowly being effected in ways that were strange for even her.  
  
She felt both hot and frigidly cold; panicked and strangely detached.  
The air she gulped at moments was as sweet as honey then as arcid as burning   
plastic. As she stumbled about, she was unconsiously searching for something...  
  
Rounding a corner, she bowled over a tall man, dressed in dark  
clothing. He was apparently, to the last of her clouding sight, carring a  
cane or bokken, she couldn't tell...  
  
-----------  
  
Consiousness returned slowly. She propped herself up onto her abraded  
elbows and took stock of herself. Achy, check; Sore, oh yeah. Even her...   
there... was trobbing dully. She was even sitting in ... a puddle ... a sticky,  
cold ... puddle.  
  
Her scream was heard clear to the other end of the island.  
  
-----------  
  
As she leaned against the Nekohanten's wall, she stated at the beautifully  
hideous features of the cro... multi-great grandmother that, to her knowledge,  
was the best source of information on the entire island - probably the best   
source on the _planet,_ at that.  
  
Said matriarch who, at this precise moment, was grumbling in what  
sounded like a trash compactor trying to process a serving of Akane's jello.  
  
"Gouhl," she said in a gentle, soft voice. Cologne just growled and  
continued on in her rant. "Kol Lon!" she tried again, to have her switch to Hindi.  
"***GRANDMOTHER!***" she screamed. This finally worked; the withered Amazon's  
tirade cut off as if on a stereo without current. The little old woman drew in  
a extremely deep breath, sighed, then pulled out her clay pipe and lit it  
with a miniscule spark of chi.  
  
Her head wreathed in bluish-grey smoke, the tri-centurian leveled a  
flat gaze upon her. "Child," she grumbled, "in the time I've been alive, you  
have been the one thing that has kept my old ticker humming like a Swiss  
pocketwatch. Your ability to turn a liability into an asset has left _me_ in  
awe. That learning talent, frankly, can and _will_ one day make you a great  
leader. But your blind dumb luck, frankly, will make me want to kill you  
horribly by the end of the week."  
  
She tensed herself, until the next words came from the Chinese woman's  
mouth. "Matriarch Ranma, the nations of the Amazons are at your disposal  
in finding your attacker. Notice has been sent to the Brazillian and Greek  
colonies, as well as the Chinese, and the members of your tribe will be  
chosen from the best warriors, fenale _and_ male, to start the Japanese  
branch. The resources of this resturant and its' contents are the seeds of  
your tribe."  
  
She was baffled. "Wazzat?" she squeaked.  
  
Cologne bounced her head against the tabletop a few times. "Ranma,"  
she growled into the formicaed surface, "you are with child. And, as much  
as you may argue otherwise, I'm partly to blame."  
Screaming, she found, is quite catharic.  
  
END FLASHBACK  
Ranma let her cheek rest against the cold porcelain, as she tried  
to collect the shreds of her consiousness for the day. Yep, it'd only been  
four weeks; even though her body was still hiding the suprise that was in  
store for their fathers, it seemed that the females in the house had wised  
up to what was happening, at least subconsiously.  
  
Even, she admitted with a bit of awe, _Akane_ got the suliminal  
message....  
  
-FLASHBACK-  
  
Ranma sat in the dining room, her heart beating at a trip-hammer  
rate. From the smells snaking from the kitchen, there was at least _one_  
dish that had been cooked by her tomboy fiance. As much as she really  
_didn't_ want the little parasite growing inside her, she felt that   
poisoning the little squiggler was low.  
  
She growled at her father. The fat, lazy bum had been hassling  
her for the entire week about being stuck in her female form; calling   
her a weak, spineless female for not trying to move Heaven and Earth to  
break whatever had locked her like this. She'd be dammed if she'd tell  
him just yet exactly _why_ she wasn't able to change. If that fat, honorless  
fool were to find out what she was carrying around, well...  
  
A scream of rage, typical of her fiance, shocked her from her  
downwardly spiralling thoughts. As she listened close, her jaw began to  
drop in amazement.  
  
"Kasumi, why didn't you TELL me that my cooking was so VILE-TASTING?!?"  
the youngest Tendo screamed. After her sister's inarticulate murmur, her  
voice emerged again, only slightly lower. "You actually _taste_ it as you  
cook it? Alright, then; I'll try to make it again. Mizo soup shouldn't be   
gelatinous, right? And it really shouldn't be trying to escape either."  
  
The facefault was classic; how often does an event like this  
_really_ ever come up in this household?  
END FLASHBACK  
  
A chuckle escaped her lips, as she rinsed off the soap from her body.  
Since that day, the quality of the tomboy's cooking had improved by leaps  
and bounds. Instead of being industrial strength rat poison, the output of  
her efforts was now nearing the level of her own efforts. True, the occasional  
bad dish did slip through, but it was bad in the sense of it being bland or  
burned or just undercooked; still quite edible in comparison to her older  
efforts, even if it wasn't quite right.  
  
Sliding her body into the steaming furo, she drew in a deep breath.  
The subterfuge has worked alright; that is, until the point where the Tendo  
sisters put the pieces together...  
  
-FLASHBACK-  
  
As Ranma was shuffling past Kasumi's room, a hand shot out and   
grabbed the redhead's pigtail, pulling the hapless girl into the darkened  
room. Before she could react, she was deposited onto the bed and the  
three girls were sitting around her.  
  
The eldest led off the interrigation. "Why," she enquired in a soft,  
level tone, "would you stay female for the last four weeks?"  
  
Before the redhead could reply, her intended spouse cut in. "You've  
been sick to your stomach the last week," she noted. "Are you coming down  
with the flu?"  
  
This time, Ranma was able to shake her head from side-to-side before  
she was hit with the next bombshell. "You're pregnant, aren't you?" the   
middle Tendo sister made it almost a statement. She hesitated a long moment,  
then just gave a single downward jerk of her chin. *Here it comes,* she  
thought to herself. *Rejection and dishonor, figures.*  
  
The next action shocked the tiny woman to her core. Instead of the  
three others lashing out at her, or turning away, the trio engulfed her in  
a warm, loving hug.  
  
Before she could even finish her gasp, Akane spoke up. "Ranma," she  
said in a voice more suited for Kasumi, "I know that this isn't your fault.  
Of anyone, you're the _least_ likely to do something this perverse."  
  
At that moment, the dam on her feelings shattered. With a silent wail  
of relief, she poured out all the pain, grief and hopes for the future to  
the three sets of waiting ears.  
  
For the remainder of the evening, the only time that the conversation  
strayed away from motherhood was to ask just why they had not been disturbed  
by the fathers. To Ranma's surprise, Kasumi grinned evilly and held out a  
tiny bottle. "Perfect for any occasion, Ranma-chan," she chortled. "Sodium  
chloralhydrate, the refreshment that pauses."  
  
After a catharric moan, the girls continued their planning.  
END FLASHBACK  
  
As Ranma pulled her body from the still-steaming water, Akane slid into  
the tub room. THe dark-haired girl's expression was unreadable as she pulled the  
towel from around her body.  
  
"What's happening?" the redhead enquired.  
  
As Akane sat down and began washing off, she gave a long-suffering  
sigh. "Baka-chan," she grumbled, "the bimbette is here."  
  
Her eyes wide as she began to shred the towel she had just taken, Ranma  
gulped. "Why??!" she squeaked so shrilly that Bess, the neighborhood dog  
whined from the yard a half mile away.  
Oh, Kami; why do I feel the urge to leave these cliffhangers in my  
stories..... ^_^' 


End file.
